In a starling-chased July,
Be sure to pause and gaze upon
A sight of simple beauty.
Fields of lavender in full bloom,
Bursting with a hue so rich,
Kings would entertain the envy of nations
By wearing it upon their crown.
And the smell -
A scent of healing borne to clear
The clouded mind, like a raging stream
That cures the still and stagnant pool.
It is with peace and wonder
That I have gazed upon those fields,
And though now many miles from sight,
My enduring thoughts of them
Are a medicine to my soul.